Hero Of War
by teamfreewill1983
Summary: After being attacked by a mysterious enemy, Sam finds himself sent back to 1997. While he is stuck in his fourteen year old body, fourteen year old Sam is stuck in adult Sam's body.
1. Chapter 1

Sam fidgeted anxiously, eyes locked on the door before him. He hated going into hunts blind; if they didn't know what they were going up against how where they supposed to know how to kill it? It was a situation the Winchester got themselves into ridiculously often. Sam clicked off the safety of his gun and reached past his brother into the trunk of the Impala, grabbing salt, matches, knives, anything that might come in handy.

Dean glanced up, amused. "Planning to run into a trickster?"

Sam reluctantly replaced the stake, turning to face his brother. "I don't like this Dean. We're going in practically blindfolded."

"It's not like it's the first time." Dean pointed out, shoving a knife through his belt.

"And how often does that end well for us?"

Dean straightened up, shutting the trunk with a bang. He paused, considering. "About sixty forty."

Sam just rolled his eyes and led the way into the abandoned warehouse.

0o0o0o0o0o0

"I told you, I _told _you." Sam muttered to himself, scanning desperately for any sign of the creature. He had yet to actually see his opponent, which was making it exceedingly difficult to track. He had sure sensed it though, a rush of wind blowing past him from all sides. It had attacked Dean first, throwing him across the room over a work bench. He had not gotten up.

"I swear to god if we both make it out of here alive, I'm going to kill him." A flash of movement in the far corner caught his eye. A spark flared to life and Sam paused, watching as it expanded. The light grew painfully bright and he put up a hand to shield his eyes. He threw a nervous glance at his brother, hoping that Dean would survive whatever was about to happen. An outline appeared in the centre of the shining oval, a man walking towards the youngest Winchester. Sam darted backwards, raising his gun to take aim. Before he had a chance to fire however the ball of light imploded and then exploded outwards, drowning the room in its radiance. A scream. A flash of white. And then nothing.

0o0o0o0o0o0

"Sammy! Rise and shine bro." Sam groaned and buried his face into his pillow, silently wishing that Dean would shut up. Wait. What? Sam sat bolt upright, eyes searching the room for the glowing light. Seeing none, he relaxed slightly but tensed again almost immediately as he realised that he had absolutely _no _idea where he was. Though still in a motel room it was most diffidently not the same motel he had woken up in yesterday morning. He lept out of bed, noticing vaguely that the floor was a lot further down then it should have been.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and whirled around, staring up into the freckled face of a teenage boy. He was maybe seventeen or eighteen, surprisingly quite a bit taller than Sam which officially qualified him as a freak and his clear green eyes were watching Sam with concern. "Sam? What's wrong?"

The boy looked painfully familiar. Like he was someone he had known a very long time ago. Sam shrugged the hand off, backing away. He glanced desperately around for some sort of weapon. There was a gun sticking out from under the pillow of the other man's bed. Sam lunged for it, snatching up the gun and whirling around to aim it at the stranger.

"What the hell!?" The man held up his hands in a placating gesture, eyes wide. "Sam what are you doing? Give me the gun."

Sam snorted in disbelief. "Fat chance. Who the hell are you? Where's my brother?"

The boy took a step towards him; Sam brought his weapon up higher. The stranger was starting to sound panicked. "What are you talking about? Is this a joke?"

"Do I sound like I'm joking? Where's Dean!"

"I am Dean!" The boy yelled. "Sam, please. Give me the gun."

Sam was about to shoot the stranger for being a smartass and impersonating his brother but something caught his eye, a glint of gold at the boy's neck. The amulet, _Dean's _amulet. Sam took a closer look at his captor, at the thick leather jacket, the short tousled hair, the ring on the boy's finger. And something clicked.

This was Dean.

Sam gasped in shock, the gun dropping to his side. "Dean? What the hell happened to you? Why are you so tall?"

Dean sighed in relief that he was finally getting through to his brother then tensed as Sam's words registered. "Nothing happened to me. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. Fine. I don't know." Sam brushed past his brother towards the bathroom. If Dean hadn't gotten younger then that meant…

Sam dashed to the bathroom mirror, staring intently at his own reflection. He groaned. Wide brown eyes almost hidden under long floppy bangs. It was his face. His _fourteen year old _face.

Sam turned to face Dean, who had followed him looking extremely alarmed. "What year is this?"

"1997."

Well fuck.

**This is just something I wrote because I was bored. I will continue if people like it. So what do you guys think? Should I continue or get rid of it?**

**Please review. **


	2. Chapter 2

**I'm very very sorry it's taken me this long to update. I promis it will never happen again. I was very surprised at the reaction to this story; this is my best received story yet! Thank you all very much, you guys are the reason I keep writing.**

**Enjoy!**

"This is just perfect." Sam muttered distractedly, running a hand through his shaggy hair. He pushed angrily past his brother, a feat much more impressive than usual thanks to the new height difference. Sam spun to face his brother, glaring. "I told you! I _told _you. You know it figures something like this would happen. This is fucking perfect."

Dean snapped out of his confused daze, frowning at Sam. "Watch your language."

Sam stared at him.

He turned on his heal, storming back into the bedroom. Sam grabbed his Dean's jacket off the hook by the door, rustling through the pockets.

Dean followed him, confused. "Sammy? What are you doing?"

"Looking for the keys."

Dean's eyes widened. "What? Why?"

"So I can find the warehouse, gank this thing, and get the hell back to the twenty-first century."

Clearly Dean had had enough. He grabbed his little brother by the shoulder, halting his progress and forcing Sam to look at him. "Sam, just stop okay? Dads got the car remember? He went out to get dinner. And even if it was here what makes you think you would be allowed anywhere near the steering wheel? Your feet probably wouldn't reach the pedals anyway. So… just stop. Talk to me man. What's going on?"

Sam hesitated, fidgeting uneasily under Dean's gaze. How much could he tell his brother? How much would be safe? He was saved by having to answer when the door opened and a familiar figure walked in, arms full of takeout. Sam stared at the new arrival, all thoughts of Dean forgotten.

"Dad."

0o0o0o0o0o0

John Winchester had barely gotten through the door before he was practically tackled by his youngest son, dinner falling forgotten to the floor. Sam wrapped his arms around his father's waist, burying his face in the familiar leather clad chest. John sent Dean a questioning look over Sam's head.

Dean shrugged helplessly, eyes wide and alarmed. "Sam's been… something's wrong dad."

John felt his heart speed up, survival instincts kicking in. "What do you mean?"

"He's been  
acting strange… He won't tell me what's happening."

John pulled Sam away, holding him at arm's length. He bent down to his son's level, maintaining eye contact. He blinked, startled at what he saw in Sam's eyes. It was the hunter's look, a look that said that he had seen too much, had been through too much. It was the same look John himself had had ever since Mary's death.

"Sam." He spoke carefully, not wanting to scare him. "What happened to you?"

Sam sighed, resigning himself to the conversation ahead. "Maybe you two should sit down."

Perplexed, his father and brother moved to sit at the tiny kitchen table. They leaned forward, watching their youngest member as he paced, unused to Sam telling them what to do.

"Okay." Sam came to a stop in front of them, hands on his hips. "This is going to sound weird, really weird, but I need you too bear with me okay?"

Seeing his family nod in tentative agreement, Sam took a deep breath before continuing. "Yesterday Dean and I were hunting something."

"No we weren't." Dean interrupted.

John held up a hand to silence his eldest. "What were you hunting Sam?"

He shook his head. "No idea." As his dad opened his mouth, a disapproving look on his face, Sam hurried on. "Don't look at me. I told him we should do more research before we went after it but, well, you know how Dean can be."

John nodded in agreement, amused at Dean's scowl.

"So we were hunting the damn thing, and then there was this bright light and then I woke up here. In 1997. Happens surprisingly often actually, I shouldn't be so surprised."

Eighteen year old Dean frowned, Eyebrows drawing together in confusion. "Stuff like this happens all the time?"

Sam shrugged. "Well not exactly like this. Although time travel isn't unheard of. I mean more crazy things: Lucifer, nutcracker, mystery spot, soullessness…" He trailed off nervously, watching his family's reactions, praying that they would believe him.

John was nodding slowly, starting to make sense of what his son was saying to him. "You're not from around here are you Sam?"

"No."

"What year?"

Sam swallowed. "2011."

Dean shook his head violently. "No way. No freaking way."

Again he was silenced. John turned back to Sam warily, a question nagging at him. "Okay son, say for a second we believe you. Let's put a pin in this for a second, and trust me we will be coming back to it. If you're here, where's Sammy?"

**Next chapter: what's going on with Sammy and Dean in 2011? Ill update soon.**

**What do you think? Should I keep going?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for the wait but here's the new chapter! Now we see what's happening with Sammy and Dean. Enjoy!**

Dean groaned, sitting up slowly and rubbing the back of his fist over his face to rid it of dirt. He glance around blearily, scanning the now empty ware house for the familiar, if over-sized, form of his little brother.

Dean focused on a body lying a few feet away, covered in ash and grime. Recognizing the floppy brown hair he pushed himself up, shuffling along on his knees towards Sam.

Kneeling down next to Sam, Dean shook his shoulder impatiently. Sam immediately opened his eyes, blinking up at the man hovering over him. He froze, eyes widening.

Dean glanced behind him, thinking that his brother had seen something approaching but there was nothing there. He turned back to Sam, jumping in surprise when he saw the younger man scrambling backwards away from him.

He lunged forwards, grabbing Sam's wrist to prevent him from hitting a wall. "What the hell Sam? Where are you going?"

Sam shrunk away from him, fear shinning in his eyes. "Who are you? Where's Dean? You know if you don't let me go right now my dad is going to kill you."

Dean gaped at him. "Um… Sam?"

"Where's Dean!?" Sam screamed at him, enraged.

Dean stared at him, dumbstruck. "Sam? I am Dean."

"Liar!" Sam launched himself at Dean, fist swinging for his face. Dean jumped to his feet, grabbing Sam's wrist and spinning him around.

He slammed his brother into the wall. "Sammy! What are you doing, you idiot!" Sam struggled, attempting to stomp on Dean's feet. _Okay. Hard way it is then._

Fifteen minutes, two black eyes, and an entire roll of duct tape later found Dean leaning against the backdoor of the Impala, admiring his handy work. He sighed, taking in the sight of Sam lying across the backseat, bound and gagged, eyes shining accusingly up at him.

"This is for your own good. I hope." Dean told him, closing the door. "You can come and join the party when you're ready to behave like a big boy and stop trying to commit fratricide." He slumped against the side of his beloved car, pulling out his phone and trying very hard to not hear the sound of his little brother attempting to claw his way out of his binds.

Dean dialled Bobby's number, jamming the phone against his ear. To his immense relief the older hunter picked up on the second ring. "Singer."

"Bobby, hey. It's Dean."

"What's the crisis level, son? Apocalyptic or run-of-the-mill life or death?"

Dean grinned in spite of himself; his life was so screwed up. "Neither. At least not yet." The smile melted off his face as he remembered why he called. "Bobby, its Sam."

"Sam? What about him?" Bobby's voice bristled, nervousness leaking through.

"I… don't know." He hesitated. "Sam's lost it Bobby. He doesn't know me. Well he does; he keeps asking for me. But he refuses to believe that I'm Dean. And he wanted to know where dad was."

There was a pause then Bobby let out a loud sigh. "Fine. Just bring him here, you idgit. We'll sort it out. Where is he now?"

Dean hesitated again sheepishly. "I may or may not have used duct tape to tie him up and stuffed him in the backseat."

"You did _what?!_"

"Looking back on it I now realise that it may not have been the most appropriate way to handle this particular situation." Dean admitted.

"Ya think?"

"Whatever Bobby! He was attacking me; what was I supposed to do?"

"Just get him here Dean. And do try not to kill him." Bobby hung up with a soft beep.

Dean stuffed his phone back into his pocket, walking around the car and sliding behind the wheel. He pulled out onto the highway, hoping that the two hour trip to Bobby's would pass uneventfully.

0o0o0o0o0o0

They had not been on the road for more than twenty minutes however before there was a screech of sirens behind them, police lights blaring.

Dean swore creatively, pulling over to the side of the road. He had no way of hiding Sam and the officer was already outside knocking on the driver side window. This was not going to end well.

He rolled down the window, smiling. "Evening officer. Problem?"

"Do you know how fast you were driving sir?" the man's gaze strayed into the backseat. He took in the sight of Dean's captive brother, eyes widening. In a second there was a gun in his hands, aimed straight at the eldest Winchester. "Get out of the car! Now!"

Dean was about to do just that, cursing himself internally for speeding when he had a man bound and gagged in the backseat, when much to his surprise his brother sat up. Sam raised his very _unbound _hands to his face, tearing out his gag. Then again maybe he shouldn't be so shocked, duct tape wasn't well known for holding a Winchester for long.

Sam squeezed his way into the front seat, beaming charmingly at the officer. "Officer this is all a big misunderstanding. He wasn't hurting me; this is just a game that we play."

The officer frowned uncertainly. "A game?"

"Yeah." To Dean's shock Sam wrapped his arm around his waist, laying his head on his big brother's shoulder. "You know. A _game. _Isn't that right honey?" It couldn't have been much more obvious if Sam had screamed it.

"Yes." Dean swallowed in disgust. "A game."

As soon as the officer reluctantly headed back to his car, apologising awkwardly with all thoughts of a speeding tickets forgotten, Dean shook his brother off, turning to face him. "What was that?" He demanded suspiciously.

"What was what?" Sam asked lightly, settling into the passenger seat although maintaining a safe distance between himself and his 'captor'.

"You could have turned me into the police." Dean persisted. "Why didn't you?"

Sam turned suddenly serious. Looking the other man dead in the eye he slowly reached down, pulling a necklace out from the neckline of his jacket. Dean's amulet. "You have a lot of explaining to do."

**Should I continue? Also could you guys please check out my other story? It's called 'From The Ashes' and I'm not getting alot of response to it. Thanks! **

**Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello people! I was inspired by all the people who reviewed/followed/favorited so I decided to update early.**

**Enjoy!**

"You're kidding." Sam stared open mouthed up at his eighteen year old brother.

Dean looked from Sam to the open car door and back again. "No."

"I am _not _sitting in the backseat." Sam huffed indignantly; he was twenty seven after all!

Dean sighed in exasperation, rolling his eyes. "Well I'm not going in the backseat and dad sure as hell isn't going to."

"Just get in the back Sam." His dad broke in impatiently. "We have to get to Bobby's so we can loot his library so unless you want to ride on the roof…"

Sam ground his teeth, climbing reluctantly into the back of the car with obvious distaste. After he had gotten back from Stanford he had hoped that he would never have to sit back here again yet here he was, six years later and eight years earlier. His life was so messed up.

As the rest of the Winchesters piled into the car, pulling out of the parking lot towards the highway, Sam reached into 'his' bag, pulling out a notebook and pen, an idea forming. Soothed by the familiar rocking of the Impala beneath him he settled back and started to write.

0o0o0o0o0o0

The Impala pulled up smoothly in front of Singer Salvage and Dean cut the engine. It had been a long and painfully awkward ride. They had driven the last hour in silence, promising to have a real conversation and figure out what was happening as soon as they got to Bobby's. Honestly Dean had no idea how to answer his brother's questions and was immensely relieved at the idea of having a little backup.

How was he supposed to answer when Sam asked why Dean wasn't the one wearing the amulet. How was he supposed to remind his brother that he had thrown it out in a moment of anger and never went back, the last symbol of the Winchester's relationship? But someone had gone back. Sam. He shouldn't be so surprised; he should have known that Sam would never leave it behind.

"So… are we going in?" Sam's voice brought him out of his thoughts.

Dean looked up, startled. "What? Yeah…"

He followed Sam up the steps, watched as he knocked hesitantly on the door. Dean wondered how Sam would react to seeing Bobby, he seemed to remember him just fine but on a day like today it was anybody's guest.

His question has answers seconds later however when Bobby pulled open the door and his brother's face broke into a huge grin. "Bobby!" Dean watched with his eyebrows raised as Sam wrapped his arms around the alarmed older hunter, giving him a hug. "Man, you got old!"

"_Excuse _me!?" Bobby sent Dean a 'what the hell' expression over Sam's head.

Dean chuckled. "Welcome to the party."

Five minutes later Bobby was caught up, if extremely confused. Dean did the explaining as Sam busied himself eating the bowl of truly disgusting curry Bobby had placed in front of him, apparently zoned out.

After he was done telling his story, Dean leaned back, bringing his chair up on two legs, and prayed Bobby would have answers.

The older hunter watched Sam thoughtfully. "Sam?"

The youngest Winchester looked up from his bowl, eyes wide. "Hmm?"

"How old are you?"

Dean raised a questioning eyebrow at his friend. Maybe Bobby had lost it too? Sam was twenty seven; they all knew tha- "Fourteen."

Dean jerked his head up to stare at his brother, jaw dropping. "Say what?"

Bobby held up a hand and Dean reluctantly allowed himself to be silenced. Bobby's was thinking hard, obviously putting the pieces together. Dean was glad somebody was since he was feeling pretty damn lost. "Wait. Wait, I remember this." Bobby stood up, hurrying over to the nearest bookshelf and scanning titles.

"You remember what?" Dean demanded, getting to his feet and following the hunter with Sam trailing behind.

"I remember this happening before!" he exclaimed excitedly, still searching. "I remember you and Sammy and your Daddy came to see me in… 97 I think it was? Sam was talking something about the future and being older then he was. You came to raid my library, ungrateful bastards. You don't remember?"

Dean stared at him. "No I don't freaking remember! Don't you think I might have mentioned that sooner? Why didn't you tell us about this before?"

Bobby shrugged noncommittally. "It was a long time ago. Forgot. Anyways the Sam of then left a note for ya. Said you'd need it someday."

"So where is it?" Dean perked up, the idea of hearing from Sam brightening his mood considerably.

"I know it's here somewhere..."

"Damn it Bobby!"

Bobby ignored him, pulling a book of the shelf with a triumphant smile. He held it out to the eldest Winchester who read the title sceptically. "'Time travel for Dummies'?"

Bobby nodded, motioning to the shelf he had pulled it from. Dean read a couple other titles, eyebrows raised. "Exorcisms for dummies, Flamethrowers for dummies, I got the whole collection."

"Where?" Dean demanded, intrigued.

"I know a guy. Bought 'em with you idgits in mind." He shook the book at Dean violently. "Just read the damn letter boy!"

Dean took the book, flipping it open. Wedged in before the first page where two yellowing pieces of folded paper. When had the word 'Sam' scrawled on it in what was undoubtedly his little brother's handwriting. Dean handed that one to Sam, pulling out the paper marked 'Dean' and unfolding it, starting to read.

_Dean_

_So I guess you made it too Bobby's, huh? Well he could probably catch you up but I'd rather you hear it from me. So that you don't go sticking him in some mental hospital or something, you know? Listen, I don't know what's going on your end but I can tell you that thing have been pretty crazy over here. The last thing I remember from 2011 was that stupid blind hunt. Told you. Then I woke up in 1997. Yeah, I know what you're thinking but I swear I'm not lying and I'm not insane. I'm in my fourteen year old body and you and dad are here only your eighteen and dad's alive and they don't know squat about what's going on. We aren't sure where younger me is but I assume that if I'm here then he is in my body? I left a note for him too just in case. I'm going to try to figure out what could have done this to me and then I'm going to hunt it down and kill it all kinds of dead. I hate being fourteen Dean. They make me sit in the backseat and I'm, like, half your height. I want to come home._

_Sam._

**Did you like it? Should I continue? Do any of you have any suggestions or things you would like to see in this story? If I get a good reaction for this chapter I will update tomorrow!**

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	5. Chapter 5

**I'm so sorry it took so long!**

**Enjoy!**

Sam awoke with a start when he felt a hand shaking his shoulder, already swinging.

The hand pulled back fast, Dean stumbling back from the car, rubbing angrily at his face. "Dude, what the hell?"

Sam scrambled out of his seat, smiling apologetically. "Sorry. It's sort of… a reflex."

"Some reflex; lashing out against those trying to wake your lazy ass up for lunch." His brother grumbled, scowling good naturedly.

"Yeah, well, hell will do that to ya." Sam muttered under his breath, too low for Dean to hear.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. Where are we?" Sam asked, glancing around and taking in the dirty parking lot next to a rundown highway dinner.

"Couple of hours outside Bobby's place. We stopped for lunch; dad's waiting for us inside." His brother marched off towards the building, motioning for Sam to follow.

Bells jingled cheerfully as they pushed the door open, announcing their entrance. Scanning the room, Sam noticed John sitting in a corner booth and trotted over to join him. He slid in after his brother, smiling kindly at the waitress. His smile faded fast however as she placed a kids menu in front of him before hurrying off, glancing nervously at John; obviously alarmed by his no nonsense demeanour.

Dean noticed Sam glaring at the menu like it had insulted him, quickly grabbing it away from his brother. "Never mind, Sammy. We can share mine."

Sam deflated, nodding sadly. He once again cursed his stupid, useless fourteen year old body. "Don't call me that." He said it mostly out of habit.

Dean frowned, confused. "Sammy? Why wouldn't I call you Sammy?"

Sam did a double take, glancing up at his brother in surprise. Of course Dean would still call him Sammy; he hadn't started protesting until he had gotten back from Stanford. Not that Dean had ever stopped of course, stubborn jerk. "It's just, in my time I don't like it when you call me Sammy. I am twenty seven dude."

Dean shrugged, turning back to his menu. "Tough. You show me a beard; I'll stop, deal?"

Sam was about to retort that in 2011 he could grow a beard whenever the fuck he wanted and in fact had some pretty impressive side burns but Dean changed the subject before he got a chance, maybe that was for the best. "So what's our next move? How do we fix this?"

Just then the waitress came back to take their orders. Dean and John both ordered cheeseburgers and fries. Sam ordered the chicken salad, earning an eye roll from his brother; some things never change.

"I need to get home." Sam stated, expression blank. He needed to get home. Dean needed him.

John took a sip off coffee, nodding thoughtfully. "And we need to find Sammy; for all we know what ever did this could have taking him." He said it matter of factly as though it was just something he was commenting on but Sam could tell that he was worried. "So I was thinking that once we get to Bobby's we could ask him to make a few calls, gather a little backup. We might need help hunting the son of a bitch."

Dean was already nodding eagerly, always the obedient solder. Sam however felt something nagging at him. "Are you sure we should just charge in? I mean, that's what Dean and I did last time and look how that turned out. I think we should figure out what we're up against before we do anything drastic."

Sam could feel his jaw jutting out defiantly, eyes narrowing as he fell back into the familiar pattern. Thirteen years later and still he was butting heads with his father. Apparently Dean could feel it too because he quickly jumped in, playing mediator. "Look, either way we're headed to Bobby's right? Can we just worry about it when we get there?" He asked somewhat pleadingly.

Mostly for brother's sake Sam forced himself to stand down, nodding reluctantly. The waitress came back with their food, and the rest of the meal was spent in awkward silence. It reminded all three Winchesters alarmingly off the calm before the storm.

0o0o0o0o0o0

Sam leaned against the car window, watching the countryside zoom past. It was a rare occasion that he got any real scenery; most of the time the Winchesters stuck to highways and he intended to enjoy it. Of course that would have been much easier if he hadn't been thrown forwards violently in his seat as his dad braked suddenly to avoid hitting a man standing in the middle of the road.

When the man just stood there and watched them John made to get out, but was stopped when Sam put a hand on his shoulder, leaning in between the front seats. "Be careful."

His dad nodded, grabbing his gun and tucking it in the back of his jeans. When strangers appear out of nowhere in front of a group of hunters they tended to have a more sinister motive then taking in the scenery.

John got cautiously out of the car, moving warily towards the man. "Can we help you?"

The man's head moved slowly, tuning to focus on the oldest hunter. "Oh I think so…" He smiled frighteningly, eyes snapping to black. "…Winchester."

**What do you think? Time to watch Sam be badass? Is it worth continuing?**

**Please review!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, followed, favorited, or just read my story. You guys are great.**

**Enjoy!**

Shit. Shit shit shit. Sam fumbled for his duffle, throwing the contence all over the inside of the car as he searched. Seeing what he needed at the bottom of the bag he snatched it up, yanking the door open and racing towards his father with his brother close behind.

Sam dashed to his father's side. John had drawn his gun, levelling the weapon straight at his opponent's head. Little did he know that unless that thing was the colt he may as well snap the demon with a rubber band. Actually there was very little John Winchester knew about demon and their existence, luckily he was about to get the crash course.

Sam stepped protectively in front of his family, grabbing a handful of the salt he had retrieved from his bag. He shook his brother off when Dean took hold of his arm, trying to pull him back. Sam knew Dean meant to protect him but he also knew that he was the only one even partially equipped to handle this situation.

The demon watched the whole thing with amusement, smirking. "You humans and your need to save your loved ones." It hissed, eyes narrowing. "So adorable. You must be Sam. I've heard so much about you."

John tried ineffectually to push past his son. "What's he talking about Sam? What is that thing?"

Sam recognized the order but chose to ignore his father, focusing only on the demon. He could deal with the fallout later but right now the most important thing was to get his family out. This was messing with the whole timeline! They weren't supposed to find out about demons for years. He had travelled through time and space and still the damned things couldn't leave him the hell alone. Unbelievable.

"What do you want?" Sam demanded, raising his voice to be heard.

"Just checking up on you, Winchester." The demon pulled a knife from inside its jacket, twirling it carelessly between his fingers. "Nothing personal of course. Boss's orders."

"Who's your boss?" He inquired puzzled. Who was there that even knew he was here? Sure he had a ton of demons on his ass but they would all be looking for him about seventeen years into the future.

The demon waggled a finger at him scolding. "Now now Sammy. Can't go giving away the ending just yet! Wouldn't want to ruin all the fun."

Sam jumped as a gun went off next to him, the bullet implanting itself deeply into the possessed man's forehead. Apparently John had had enough. The demon was knocked back by the force off the shot, neck twisting at a dangerous angle. Sam sensed Dean relax next to him, obviously thinking it was over but Sam stayed tensed, knowing what was about to happen.

With a sickening crunch, the demon's neck righted itself, straightening out as the bullet fell uselessly to the ground. Sam gritted his teeth at the gasps he heard from wither side of him; fucking rubber bands. The demon scowled, seething angrily as he turned his gaze to the eldest Winchester. "Rude. Can't you see I'm trying to talk to your son?" It flung an arm out in front of it, raising it slowly. Dean and John were pulled upwards in time with the hand, coming to a stop above Sam's head, hanging suspended in midair.

"Don't you touch him!" Dean yelled, struggling uselessly. The demon grinned maliciously and twisted his hand, making Dean gasp with pain.

Sam snapped. He had had enough. Enough demons, enough death, enough destiny and bosses and crazy plans to kill him. And most of all he had had enough of all those things messing with his family. He wanted this thing gone. Before he even knew what he was doing he was charging the monster, his family's yells overshadowed by the pounding in his ears.

He threw his handful of salt, grinning as the demon screamed in agony. His fist slammed down once into the demons stomach before he had to jump back, a foot sailing past where he had been just a second previously. Taking advantage of the fact that the man had thrown himself off balance Sam lunged forwards, tackling the larger body to the ground. He managed to gain the upper hand, grabbing the vessels hair and pulling the head back, wincing as he felt the blade of a knife cut into his leg. Taking the bag of salt out of his jacket pocket Sam emptied what remained into the demons mouth, clapping a hand down to make sure it wouldn't spit it out.

The whole thing was over as quickly as it began. He rolled off the man as the demon smoked out, climbing slowly to his feet. Sam turned hesitantly to face his family, both of whom had been dropped back onto the ground, held in place now not by the demon but by their own shock. They stared in horror at their youngest member.

"That" Sam informed them, picking up the fallen knife and whipping it on his pants, "was a demon."

0o0o0o0o0o0

Dean put his feet up on the dashboard of the crappy rundown car, the bottom one in a pile of crappy rundown cars. When they were younger his father had told them not to play in this car, that is was too dangerous, but they always had anyways. It was their place, their stuff strewn all over the inside: comic books, action figures, candy bar wrappers. It was also where they would go when something was troubling them.

Dean had made Sam go to bed, a feat made easier since Sam had been moody and withdrawn all evening. Ever since finding the letters. Not that Dean could blame him; he was having a little trouble wrapping his head around the situation himself. A fourteen year old brother. Wow. He could only imagine what Sam must be dealing with, wherever he was. He couldn't believe he had been so stupid; he knew better then to go into a hunt without knowing what they were fighting. Dean knew that it wasn't technically his fault, but no matter how many times he told himself just that it did nothing to extinguish the blame he felt. Sam had warned him and he just shook it off.

_I'm so sorry Sammy._

_I'll find a way to fix this. _

**Did you like it? Should I go on? Please let me know if you have any comments/suggestions/constructive criticism.**

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	7. Chapter 7

**I am so so sorry you guys! There is no excuse. But I promise that I am not abandoning this story and I will never wait this long to update again. I would like to dedicate this chapter to a special guest who reviewed about a week ago and told me how much they wanted me to continue and convinced me to update. I can't pm you because it was anonymus but I can't thank you enough. **

**Enjoy!**

It was late by the time Dean made his way back into house, closing the door as quietly as he could to avoid waking the others. Bobby appeared to have turned in leaving the eldest Winchester no reason to stay up and Dean trudged tiredly upstairs to the room he would share with his brother, flipping the lights off as he went. He grinned as he passed Bobby's room, able to hear his snoring from all the way out in the hallway. He moved on, stopping outside the last door at the end of the hall. Dean took a deep breath, preparing himself. He really hoped Sammy was asleep as he didn't think that he could deal with a chick flick moment right now. Carefully sliding the door open Dean let out a sigh of relief at the darkened room and the familiar form of his little brother sprawled on the bed farthest from the door. Dean smiled fondly at his now much younger sibling, moving to the other bed and collapsing onto it, asleep before he landed.

Dean woke the next morning earlier then he was accustomed to. He rubbed his eyes, squinting up at the curtained window and wondered where the hell the sun was. He felt something warm shift against his back and shot up, kneeling on the mattress with a knife aimed at the intruder. He relaxed in relief when he recognized the floppy brown hair and overgrown body of his brother. Dean had forgotten that Sam used to do that, climb into bed with him when something was bothering him. Fourteen seemed a bit old for cuddling but with all that was going on who could blame the kid. Dean shrugged, shoving the knife through his waistband and trudging downstairs in search of a cup of Irish coffee.

Bobby was already up, sitting at the rickety dining room table nursing a cup of joe.

He raised an eyebrow at the elder Winchester, who yawned widely and ran a hand through his sleep mussed hair. "Morning' sunshine. Sleep well did ya?"

Dean flipped him off half heatedly, grabbing a cup off the warm liquid and throwing himself into a seat across from his host. He pulled the closest bottle towards him, emptying the contence into his mug before taking a sip, smiling contentedly.

Bobby watched him with a frown. "Ain't it a bit too early for that boy? Got the whole day ahead of us and something tells me it's going to be all kinds of crazy."

Dean stared at the hunter in disgust. Since when did Bobby Singer give advice about anything, let alone his favorite pastime? "It's never too early for hunter's helper. You're getting responsible with age old man. Besides Sammy will be up soon and then we'll have that to deal with."

As if summoned, Sam stumbled into the room, rubbing his eyes sleepily. He tripped seemingly over his own two feet, catching himself on a chair and muttering angrily under his breath.

"What was that Sammy?" Dean demanded, taking advantage of the fact that he was once again able to call his little brother by his childhood nickname without objection.

"I said stupid long legs." Sam told him grouchily, sinking into the chair he had caught himself on.

Dean chuckled, offering Sam the coffee. Sam stared at him disbelievingly. "I'm not allowed to have coffee."

Right. "Of course you're not. So what do pipsqueaks drink…? Grape juice?"

Sam sighed, rolling his eyes dramatically. "You're getting the age wrong Dean. I'm fourteen not four."

Dean threw his hands up in mock exaggeration. "Well then what do you drink?"

Sam shrugged. "I dunno… milk?"

Dean got to his feet. "Sure thing kiddo. One milk coming right up."

Sam smiled in thanks, sinking back into his chair. He turned his attention to Bobby. "How are you doing Bobby? I hope its okay that we just dropped by like this. As soon as we can get a hold of dad we'll be out of your hair."

Dean nearly chocked, hiding behind the fridge door but Bobby kept it together, answering the youngest Winchester as best he could. "I'm fine. You boys are welcome to stay for as long as you want kid. How about you Sam? How are you doing?"

Sam shrugged awkwardly. "Okay I guess. It's just weird ya know?"

"Yeah I imagine it would be. You say you're fourteen?"

"Yup."

"What's the last thing you remember?"

Sam drew his eyebrows together, thinking. "Going to bed in a shithole motel. Same as usual I guess."

"Where was that motel Sam? What was John hunting? What city were you in?"

Dean's head shot up, frowning at the bizarre questioning. Why the hell would Bobby need to know that right now? He moved closer to his brother, eyeing the elder hunter warily. "What's with the twenty questions Bobby?"

Bobby shrugged innocently. "Can't a man ask a question around here?" something about the old man's voice was off, setting off alarms in Dean's head. His suspicions were confirmed when Bobby's gaze rose to meet his, the man's lips twisted in an evil smirk. Then his eyes snapped to black.

In an instant Dean had the knife one hand, pulling his brother to his feet with the other. He pushed him urgently towards the stairs. "Sam, get out of here! Now! Go! It's not Bobby!" Sam had absolutely no idea what was going on but chose instinctively to trust his big brother, spinning on his heel and dashing up the stairs to the second floor.

Dean backed away, torn. As much as he wanted to help his friend keeping his brother safe was his priority. He backed up to the bottom of the stairs before sprinting after Sam, Bobby calmly watching him go.

Dean slinked down the upstairs hall, knife drawn. "Sam?" he hissed, searching for the missing Winchester.

A hand slipped out of the linen closet, grabbing the back of Dean's shirt and yanking him into the closet. Sam closed the door behind them as quietly as he could, moving closer to his brother in the darkness. "Dean? What's…"

"Shhh." Dean shushed him frantically, ears picking up the sound of Bobby's boots clomping up the stairs.

"Boys?" 'Bobby' called. "You may as well come out, I'm gonna find you either way."

The footsteps got closer.

"Aw come on Winchesters! I just want to talk. That is _after _I shred the skin from your bones and feed it to you."

Sam whimpered, Dean clapped a hand over his mouth. The footsteps got closer.

"I've heard so much about the two of you but I must say this is disappointing. Hiding from one little demon? Pathetic."

The footsteps got closer. Dean tensed, gripped the knife tighter. He would have to fight his way out. He had to take care of Sam. But he couldn't hurt Bobby. He _couldn't_.

The footsteps stopped right outside the door.

**Hope you liked it! If I get a good reaction I will Post the next chapter within two days!**

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	8. Chapter 8

**Hi everyone! I am so sorry it has taken me this long to update. I keep saying this wont happen then it does. I will try to do better this time okay? I got a review from a guest a few days ago that stated that he/she was sorry that the story wasn't continued and I was like okay maybe its time to keep writing. Sorry this chapter is kind of short but I felt like I needed to post what I had. **

**Enjoy!**

"A demon." John confirmed, leaning forward.

Sam sighed, slouching farther into his chair and shifting uncomfortably under the intensity of his father's stare. "Yeah."

"A crazy, violent, flesh and baby eating smoke monster?" Dean confirmed eagerly, eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree. He would feel very differently in twenty years Sam knew.

Sam frowned. "Um… kinda?"

"Elaborate."

"Crazy and violent yes. Flesh and baby eating no. Well sort of, a little. Sometimes." Sam yawned, wishing he could just go to bed. It had been a long, fairly demanding, day and he found that his fourteen year old body got tired a lot more quickly than his adult one.

John scowled, apparently displeased by his son's answer. "Do we deal with stuff like this a lot?

"Yeah. It's actually pretty run of the mill to be honest. Those Jefferson starships though… those were nasty bitches."

"Sam." His family scolded, forgetting once again his age.

"Okay Sam, putting aside the, uh, Jefferson starships for a minute, and believe me we will be coming back to it, I think that it's time for us to talk." Dean started softly, wincing dramatically at the unfortunate band reference. Sam opened his mouth to argue but Dean pressed on before he could say anything. "Sammy, clearly you are hiding stuff from us. If this is going to work, if we are going to figure this out, then we need to know everything. You need to be honest with us man." Dean continued, eyes pleading silently.

Sam stifled a yawn; he would have to tell them at least part of the truth before this went any further. But not tonight. They all needed sleep and he knew that if he told them now none of them would be getting any sleep tonight. "Dean I will tell you, I promise. But right now is not the time to do it. I'm tired and I know you are too so how about we get some sleep and talk about this at breakfast tomorrow ok?"

John's eyebrows pulled together in irritation, clearly not used to being given orders from his youngest. "No Sam we will talk about this now. And we will sleep when I say we can sleep. This impacts all of us not just you so stop being selfish and tell us what we need to know!"

Sam stood up quickly, adrenaline pumping. Maybe his tolerance for orders was low after years of not having to answer to anyone, maybe it had just been too long since he had been in conflict with his dad but whatever the reason his father's arrogant tone sent anger coursing through his whole body, straight to his brain. "You really want to know what we've been hunting recently? What our lives have become?"

John nodded, more tentatively, alarmed by the rage in his sons eyes. It was a rage no teenager should have inside them.

"Or maybe I should say what Dean and I have gone through? Because where were you dad? Where were you!" reasonably Sam knew that he shouldn't be blaming his father but damn. He had been waiting for this for a long time. "Where should I start dad? The death of the woman I loved? Hell? Watching my brother be torn apart in front of me? Being hit by lightning, stabbed, shot, possessed, infected, having my lungs removed from my body? How about having my soul ripped out and then shoved right back in? Or maybe I should start with what we've hunted? Or what's hunted us? Demons, angels, eve, _Lucifer_? Is that what you wanted to hear dad? So yeah we've been through a lot. And you know what I don't need right now? To be ordered around by an alcoholic drill Sargent who is only actually like ten years older than me anyways." Sam stopped himself, realising he had gone too far. Dean and his dad stared at him open mouthed, for the second time that day at a complete loss for words.

Maybe this was a mistake.

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